Throw It All Away

. . . take your cautionary tales, and take your incremental gain, and all the sycophantic games And throw 'em all away. burn your tv in your yard, and gather round it with your friends, and warm your hands upon the fire, and start again.

Take the story you've been sold The lies that justify the pain The guilt that weighs upon your soul and Throw 'em all away. Tear up the calendar you bought and throw the pieces to the sky, confetti falling down like rain like a parade to usher in your life.

- Toad the Wet Sprocket . . . . . . . . . . .

Exits:

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